Sunscreen
by brahdley jims
Summary: If I could offer you one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. - Quinn-centric with Fabrevans at the end.


For Isha and Maddie. Also for myself because I have an undying love for Quinn Fabray.

I've not checked through this yet, by the way. I'll do that tomorrow when I've had some sleep.

The usual disclaimers. The Sunscreen Song belongs to Baz Luhrmann and is absolutely flawless. I didn't include the whole song because we would have been here for years.

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_Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97. Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proven by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now._

Quinn Fabray stood, surrounded by empty cardboard boxes, drained coffee mugs and chaos, in the middle of the apartment. It smelled of fresh paint and already looked lived in, with the posters pinned to the walls and the TV positioned just right in accordance to the sofa. The small kitchen led off from the spacious living room, as did the adjoining bedrooms, one of which had been made into a spare room. Quinn wasn't sure what was being done with the spare room yet. She'd carved herself a path through the boxes straight to the coffee machine, but that was as far as she could get – she couldn't get to the bathroom without clambering over a small mountain of cardboard. She hadn't realised she owned so much stuff.

Nearly everything was unpacked. A whole six boxes had contained clothes, shoes and bags, all of which she'd transferred to the bedroom straight away. The kitchen equipment she owned had been stored away in various cupboards, although she wasn't much of a cook, and she'd managed to set up most of the shelves and tables with drawers without even reading the instruction manuals, which were in Chinese anyway. Quinn's beauty products took up all the spare space in the bathroom, and she'd been forced to move some of those to the bedroom as well. Her designing materials were in the corner, yet to find a home, and her desk, computer, radio, and docking station were yet to be set up. The bookshelf that had previously housed a grand total of four books was now stacked with novels, fictional and non-fictional, textbooks, decorated files and magazines about fashion, the acting world, and horses. Photos and knick-knacks cluttered up the spare space, remnants from her past squeezed in amongst the shiny new furniture of her future, placed there to remind her but never to intrude.

Remembered with fondness, but nothing more.

_Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh, never mind – you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded._

Quinn tugged a tube of lipstick out of the last box, which probably fell in while she was still packing. It was dusty, and almost completely used up. She remembered this was her favourite colour to use her sophomore year, before her stomach had blown up like a balloon and the last thing on her mind was if she should go for peach lipstick or just lip gloss. Later, in her senior year, she wore red lipstick more. In truth, it was more suited to Santana than it was to Quinn, but the daring colour made her feel grown up. Adult.

So had the haircut, she supposed. Not at first – at first it was a sign of rebellion. But then she'd dyed it blonde again. Ditched the Skanks' dark clothes and the Cheerios uniform – for good, it would turn out to be – and started to wear the light dresses, floral skirts, and wedged shoes.

Suddenly, even before her eighteenth birthday, Quinn Fabray looked years older.

_But trust me, in twenty years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked._

Quinn had a photo album lying around here somewhere. She knew this because she'd unpacked it earlier and not wanted to open it while everything else was still in boxes. Retrieving it from where it had been tossed on the sofa, she cracked it open and immediately found herself smiling at the beaming faces from seven years ago. The Glee club had made several copies of this photo album just for the sixteen of them to decorate as they pleased. Quinn had filled two pages with photos of her as a Cheerio. With Coach Sylvester. With Santana and Brittany. With the whole squad. A sea of red and white. Sometimes they were posing in an elaborate pyramid. Other times, they'd been caught without knowing there was a camera looking at them. There weren't any personal photos there, of them just smiling at the camera.

Quinn marvelled at how young she looked. Most of the photos were taken her freshman year or the beginning of sophomore year. Before there was a baby. Before there was a Glee club. Before Finn, Puck and Sam. She stood, supported at the top of the pyramid, one arm reaching into the sky and a winning smile on her face. She remembered being genuinely happy. She also remembered how much she complained about the small things. In these photos, she was free, hoisted into the air with people to catch her if she fell.

They were there to catch her because it was their job.

_You're not as fat as you imagine._

Quinn flipped over to a photo of herself – seven months along in her pregnancy, she remembered – and sitting in the corner of the choir room while everyone else bustled around her. She looked miserable. At that point, she'd become too big to take part in anything more rigorous than swaying in the background. She hadn't known what she would do during Regionals. More swaying, she supposed.

That was the part of being pregnant she hated the most – being fat. Even more than she hated the drama it had caused with Finn and Puck, the way everyone had stared all the time, the hormones and the mood swings, she hated feeling fat. She'd lost the security of being a Cheerio because she was fat. Every time she looked at herself side-on in the mirror, she was reminded of Lucy Caboosey.

She's felt like a whale waddling down the hallways at school, as if her stomach pulled focus no matter how much she tried to hide it. The maternity clothes only did so much. It wasn't as if she could stop eating to trick herself into thinking she was getting thinner, because she needed food like she needed air. Or rather, the baby did. The baby that had made her fat.

Quinn couldn't help but laugh at the photo. At how even in her situation, feeling fat was still one of her biggest concerns. After everything, the size of her stomach bothered her more than nearly anything.

_Don't worry about the future – or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind. The kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday._

In hindsight, Quinn should have been more worried about the future. Wasn't that what everyone was supposed to worry about during high school?

But no, high school _had _been the biggest challenge of her life. What happened in the years afterwards was a stroll in the park compared to the last three years of high school. She hadn't been anxious about her future at all – after a teenage pregnancy, the vicious feuds with Rachel over boys, losing Beth for a second time, and being temporarily paralysed in a wheelchair, Quinn had been equipped for almost anything the future dared to throw at her. She'd been forced to grow up at an alarming rate, and been through more than most adults went through in their entire lives.

At the graduation ceremony, Quinn Fabray was the only senior in a cap and gown who could honestly say she wasn't scared at all.

_Do one thing every day that scares you._

Quinn wasn't a person who was easily daunted by things. In fact, she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd been truly terrified. The moment her water broke, her mother had stared at her blankly for a few moments too long and it had been Puck and Mercedes who rushed Quinn away before her mother snapped to her senses. In those few moments, Quinn had remembered the day her mother found out she was pregnant, and didn't say anything. She'd needed her mom then, and she needed her now. The lack of response had registered at around the same time as the first contraction, and for one horrible second Quinn thought she was going to be abandoned by her mom again.

She'd been terrified to meet her baby girl, but Beth had turned out to be more than she ever hoped. She was perfect. Quinn's perfect thing.

She'd been terrified the moment she realised she couldn't feel her legs.

She'd been terrified standing up on that stage waiting for the results at Nationals in Chicago, clutching onto Santana and Kurt's hands like she depended on them to breathe.

And finally, she was terrified right now. Quinn had absolutely no idea what awaited her in a place she'd never been to before in her life, didn't know what was going to happen to her, and only had vague plans that had yet to get a solid foundation. But the positives outweighed the negatives – because there weren't any negatives, not really – and wasn't she old enough to deal with the terror now?

Quinn wasn't a person who was easily daunted by things, and she didn't intend to let that change now.

_Sing._

Nearly all the faces in the photo album were of the Glee club.

The pictures told a story, Quinn couldn't help noticing, through the years they'd performed together. Rachel, Kurt, Tina, Mercedes and Artie – the original five, baby-faced and nervous in their rendition of 'Sit Down, You're Rocking The Boat'. The complete group with their Sectionals trophy. Quinn and Puck, staring at Beth through the glass window, the closest they would get for a long time. Rachel. The first time Sam came to a Glee club meeting. Finn and Rachel. Burt Hummel and Carole Hudson's wedding, Kurt and Finn grinning beside them. More Rachel. Kurt in his Dalton blazer. Puck and Lauren. Shaky photos of the night everyone had gotten drunk at Rachel's house. New York. The first time Blaine came to a Glee club meeting – minus Santana. The Troubletones. Quinn and Tina in their Sectionals outfits. Several Christmas-themed photos. Valentine's Day at Breadstix, a large amount of them being Sugar dancing on tables or Puck surrounded by a cluster of girls. Someone had snapped Brittany and Santana's kiss, which made Quinn smile. She suspected Kurt of the numerous Cooper Anderson photos which had somehow found their way in there. Several prom photos, including Tina and Mike posing on the dinosaur, Blaine's hair, Rachel and Finn as crowned Prom King and Queen, and Santana holding tightly onto Quinn's waist as she stood up in public for the first time. Winning Nationals. Graduation.

And countless casual photos. Smiling faces – or otherwise – documenting the years they'd grown together. From Tina's blue highlights disappearing to Kurt's fashion sense developing to Rachel getting slightly taller the closer she got to the end of the album.

The truth was, Quinn didn't know what would have happened to her had she not joined Glee Club. She'd have still been ridiculed during her pregnancy, and still lost Finn to Rachel. But aside from all that, she'd still have been on top, and regained her place as Head Cheerio. She wouldn't have been hit by the truck, because there would have been no way she'd ever be seen dead at Rachel Berry's wedding to Quinn's ex-boyfriend.

Quinn did know she didn't regret the decision to join at all. It may have been for the wrong reasons at the time – Rachel had still got Finn and Quinn ended up caring for Glee more than she cared for the Cheerios. But the important thing was, she'd joined, and for the first time, she'd been given a voice that people listened to because of the words, not the person speaking them. A different kind of voice she learned to manipulate, to express her emotions. Quinn honestly thought she'd still be stuck in Lima right now if it weren't for the confidence Glee provided her with to stand up and readily say she didn't want to conform any longer.

Each and every member of that club, Mr Schuester, the songs she sung, the competitions they won and lost together and the soap opera-type drama they'd battled through together – Quinn felt herself so fortunate to have experienced it all. Glee had given her something special she couldn't quite name, but she was grateful for it.

She wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for Glee.

_Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, and don't put up with people who are reckless with yours._

Quinn never tried to deceive herself into thinking she'd been a wonderful person during high school, because the truth was she'd been manipulative, shallow and plain nasty for much of it. Not as much as Santana, but Santana hadn't lied to herself for quite as long as Quinn had.

She'd been a cheater. Quinn Fabray, model student who came from a family who strongly believed in chastity, had been a cheater. She'd cheated on Finn with Puck, and ended up pregnant. She'd cheated on Sam with Finn, and ended up with laryngitis. She hadn't cheated after those incidents, certain the universe was trying to tell her something, but she never should have cheated in the first place.

Quinn remembered Kurt saying something about his dad giving him a speech with the words "You matter". She probably should have heeded that warning before it was too late. Spending countless months trying to steal Finn back from Rachel, going after Sam and Puck in a fit of desperation at the beginning of her senior year, leading Joe on without even stopping to think about her intentions – she never loved Joe, she only loved that he cared for her, and that was a lot more than anyone else had done for her in a long time.

Quinn liked to be taken care of even if she could take care of herself, and she fell in love too easily. She might have been a 'prude' physically after giving birth to Beth, but she wasn't a prude emotionally. Too late she'd realised she wasn't in love with the person, just the idea of them being in love with her, taking care of her, paying attention to her.

She needed attention like she needed air, and that was another habit Quinn had tried to quit over the years. Her heart had never truly been hers in high school – she gave it away too often without realising it or thinking of the consequences.

Quinn loved too easily. It was one of her redeeming qualities and it was the thing that caused so much upset for her and so many other people in high school.

_Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself._

Taking her address book out of her bag, Quinn flicked through it until she got to the page she wanted. Picking up her mobile, she vaguely wondered if they'd still be at this number – it had been a while since she'd spoken to them. Too long.

"_Hello?"_

"Hi, is that Rachel? It's Quinn."

A long pause.

"… _Quinn? Quinn Fabray?"_

Quinn laughed softly. "The one and only. You can't get rid of me that easily, Berry. Or is it Hudson now?"

"_No, not yet. You'd be the first to know. Well, the first to know after Kurt and Blaine and my dads and Burt and Carole and… Quinn. I can't believe it's you."_

"Neither can I. I just moved to California, believe it or not. I'm signing onto an acting agency here. "

"_Really? That's… wow, Quinn. That's amazing, I mean it. I'm happy for you."_

"Thanks."

"_So… is it a two-person apartment you've moved into?"_

"… It's hard to say."

"_What? Don't tell me you didn't look before you leapt and are now living in some homeless shelter, Fabray."_

"No, it's not that. It's just a long story."

"_You know what? For once, I have time."_

_Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements._

After she'd put down the phone – her conversation with Rachel lasting a full forty-two minutes – Quinn began to sift through a box of old keepsakes. More photos, Christmas tree decorations she'd made when she was little, chipped souvenirs from various holidays, a few torn pages of a diary, memories of friends and boyfriends long forgotten.

The stack of love letters bound with a rubber band lay at the bottom, and it made Quinn laugh to read through them. Not out of spite – simply because some of them were so jokey she couldn't help it, and some put her on the verge of tears, and some made her smile without realising it.

They were all from the same person, and Quinn thought they were ridiculous, but she couldn't be more grateful for them.

_Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth._

Quinn had received a lot of advice from a lot of different people about a lot of different things in her life. Most of it she'd tossed away, which had been both for the best and the worst. Some of it she'd have been better off ignoring, and some of it had been essential to Quinn becoming the person she was today.

Maybe she should have learned to stand on her own two feet earlier, too.

Quinn Fabray had received a lot of advice in her lifetime, yes, but one piece particularly had stuck with her.

"_Hold on to sixteen as long as you can."_

And she supposed, in a way, Sam Evans had also stuck with her.

"_Ow! _Quinn, why is there a toaster in front of my front door?"

"Oh, sorry, I must have forgotten to move it… and it's our front door, remember?"

Sam Evans stumbled through the door once she'd pulled the toaster out of the way, his face half hidden by a cardboard box. He lifted his head and grinned at her. "Does that make it our toaster too, then?"

Quinn shrugged. "If you're that concerned about equality involving toasters, then of course."

"Never let it be said that I'm not aware of my basic human rights."

Quinn laughed, gesturing for Sam to drop the box onto the sofa.

"Is that the last one?"

Sam nodded, stretching like a cat in relief. "Thank God."

She smiled, grabbing one of his hands and pulling her boyfriend towards her, wrapping her arms around his check. He smiled that adorable smile with his too-big mouth at her, encircling one arm around her waist and reaching the other up to play idly with Quinn's blonde hair. She'd kept it short, after all these years. Sam decided he liked it best that way.

"I spoke to Rachel earlier," she told him, drumming her fingers against the back of his neck. Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then grinned as if it was the best news he'd heard all day.

"How's Finn?"

"Doing the acting thing like me. Do you want to go to New York soon?"

"You spent four years studying near New York and you already want to go back there?"

"I sort of already promised them we'd be up soon."

"It's a curse that I can't say no to you."

Quinn smiled, and leaned into him, her head against his chest, Sam's arms automatically held her tightly, and they stood like that, embracing the quiet and each other for a few minutes.

"I'm glad I found you again," Quinn whispered.

Sam dropped a kiss onto her head, burying his face into her hair. "I always knew you would."

_But trust me on the sunscreen._

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please **do not** favourite with reviewing. :)


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